He Said, She Said
by araeo
Summary: Boy meets Girl and sweeps her right off her feet – which just happen to be slightly slutty when it comes to a certain tall, dark (and slightly gingered) piece of walking sex, who decides to pursue her without mercy. A fluffy novelette about a girl who does something questionably stupid, yet lucks out incredibly by finding her Mr. Right. All human. Utter nonsense.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi there. _

_I know, I know... it's not a Chain Reaction update, but this one's complete. Two updates a day until it's finished (if Little araeo allows it... she's kinda obsessed with my laptop and throws a fit whenever she sees it). So as long as she takes at least one nap a day, you'll get one chapter during the day and one in the evening after she's gone to bed. Some chapters will be kinda short, but I think it works. _

_While I know I've still got an unfinished story going (which I AM going to finish), writing this one was an escape for my mind when I desperately needed it, and I hope it makes you smile a little. That just might make me __smile. Writing this was a kind of therapy for me. A brain vacation. Hope you enjoy. _

_Many thanks to KristenLynn1121 for the beta and so much more._

**~CHAPTER ONE~**

* * *

**/ she said: **_The End of the Line – 12:49 p.m._

* * *

My hallway seems dimmer than usual as I try to fumble the key into the slot. It's also stuffier – almost muggy. It only makes the heat of him at my back even more pronounced. My nipples are standing at attention beneath all the trendy fall layers Alice forced me to wear. And it's definitely not chilly in here.

He's so close I can smell him. It's infinitely better than the hint of Indian food that usually lingers in the hall on Saturday nights. Old Mrs. Newton down the hall sure loves her theme nights. I just hope her Vindaloo tastes better than it smells.

"So what would the Chief think of you inviting me up on the first date?"

He's even closer than I thought, and the very same heat that turned my nipples into buzzing neon lights begins to build quite a bit lower.

God, if he only knew how much he affects me. I'm in trouble.

"First _official _date. We've hung out a couple times before this. Plus, the Chief and I don't discuss my dates," I manage to say, glad my back is still to him so he can't see me smile. "And you're getting _one_ beer, then it's time to hit the road."

"He still wouldn't approve," Edward says matter-of-factly, just a little cocky.

The only weapon in my defense arsenal is sarcasm, and I have no choice but to load and fire. Casting a raised brow back at him, I ask, in what I hope is my best seductive voice, "Are you suggesting I call my Daddy and ask if it's okay for you to come over and play?" Finally the deadbolt clicks and the door swings open to my cool, dim apartment. Edward follows me, mouth hanging open a little at my audacity.

Even looking so dumbstruck, he's ridiculously good-looking. Like Derek Zoolander. He's got the perfect Blue Steel. Pretty damn effective, with the embellishments of that ridiculously sexy hair and amazing green eyes.

I guess that would make it Green Steel, though...

Yes, my brain is a strange and puzzling place.

I hold my hand out for his jacket, and he's still gaping at me. "I'm joking," I say with a smile.

There's only one lamp lit in the far corner, one of those new energy-saving bulbs – which means it's basically a glorified night light. I flip on the overhead lamp and head into my postage-stamp sized living/dining area, stripping off my jacket and tossing it over the recliner Charlie – the Chief himself – purchased. It was a "gift". Likely so he has his very own La-Z-Boy to plant his ass in when he visits. I prefer the overstuffed love seat.

I turn back toward Edward and have to keep myself from groaning in want. This guy - he's perfect. Great sense of humor, kind, attentive… and so Goddamn pretty he makes my teeth hurt. We even like the same network cable TV. The man watches _An Idiot Abroad, _for Christ's sake. We both wholeheartedly agree that Carl Pilkington is the British Larry David. You know – slightly less offensive and a bit more subdued. Stiff upper lip, and all that.

Edward comes closer, shrugging his soft, warmed leather jacket off his shoulders and hands it over. I drape it over mine on the chair, biting my lip so I won't moan at the sight of his bare forearms showcased by sleeves rolled up to just below the elbow. His dress shirt is a little creased, and I can tell he wore it straight from the clinic.

He's a doctor. That's one of my _things._ He's so freaking smart, and it turns me on. I want him to wear his lab coat and read to me from a medical journal in that rich, smooth, panty-melting voice.

Which he finally finds – when he speaks, it's a little hoarse (oh, yum). "You really shouldn't have said that."

I look up to find him smiling, just one corner of his mouth turning up. He still hasn't stepped back; he's in my personal bubble. It's totally out of character for me, but I actually _like_ it.

I even want him closer.

His eyes are dark; his wide, deep pupils limned with green in the dim light. I'm caught in his tractor beam and wish he'd 'kling-on' to me.

Yeah. The boy makes me stupid. I just made a Trekkie joke. Jesus.

"It was mean," he states, and I've been so busy mooning over him that I'm lost in the conversation.

I blink. "I'm mean?"

"Very. You were just trying to turn me on. Teasing me like that. When the flesh is so... _so _weak."

Now it's my turn to be struck dumb – I think subconsciously (or not) I _was_ trying to wind him up. Heat floods my cheeks in embarrassment. I never expected him to call me out like that.

Grinning now, he leans a little closer and whispers, "It worked, you know." And then he backs off, shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling the measly four feet to my dining room. "Nice place."

_Nice place? He goes from oozing sex to _'_nice place?_'

He pauses, spotting the simple bouquet of wildflowers he'd brought when he picked me up for dinner. I'd quickly put them in my only good vase before we left.

I swallow hard. "Thanks."

Just so I have something to do with my suddenly sweaty palms, I go to the kitchen and make a show of peering into the fridge. My alcohol supply is pitifully low. There are two Heinekens left from my brother's visit last weekend, and half a box of red wine. Hey, that Bota Box stuff is pretty good. And very hard to resist when I can get four bottles-worth of wine in one box for less than the price of two glass bottles.

At least if I offer him the Heineken, I might be less tempted to kiss him. That stuff smells like skunk. And not the good green kind. You know, the kind of which Snoop Dogg would heartily approve.

But for some reason, I think not even that skunky stuff would keep me away from Edward Cullen's lips.

"Want a Heinie?" _What? Did I really just say that?_

He smirks and says, "I'd love one." His eyes drop pointedly to my ass.

_I guess I did_.

Trying to play it off, I pour a glass of wine for myself. When I turn around, I find Edward making himself comfortable on my tiny sofa, remote already in hand, aimed at the TV. I give him the beer and awkwardly hover, realizing I've cluttered up the only other seating in the room with our jackets.

He points at the cushion next to him, still giving me that look. Except he can't look at my ass because I'm facing him. No, his eyes are focused innocently on mine as he charms the ever-loving hell out of me – without saying a word – in spite of myself.

In some sort of daze, I half-sit, half fall beside him, even though I know I shouldn't. Being this close to him is like leaving a pyromaniac unsupervised in a wholesale fireworks warehouse – complete with one of those high-powered butane torches.

Yeah. I'm about to go up in flames – complete with those crackly sparkly things.

As I settle next to him, I barely remember to keep my knees closed. No matter how often I wear leggings, I still feel little bit naked. They're more like footless tights than actual pants. And I'm feeling particularly exposed.

Before I can resettle myself at a more respectable distance, he hooks an arm around my shoulders and hauls me up against his side. I barely keep from sloshing my wine all over the place. With what I swear is a sigh of contentment, he relaxes back into the cushions, taking me with him. Then he nonchalantly turns on the TV, directing his attention to a syndicated episode of _The Big Bang Theory._

Eager to distract myself from being up close with his torso – sweet Jesus, he's in nice shape underneath that well-worn button-down – I murmur, "I love this show."

Edward eyes me skeptically. "Have you ever seen an episode without the laugh track? Those jokes are so lame. The only reason people laugh is because of the canned laughter after every stupid joke."

"What? Where do you even find stuff like that?"

"On YouTube. Just try it. Then you can apologize for doubting me," he quips, gently pinching the back of my arm.

"You must have a lot of time on your hands at the clinic," I tease with a chuckle.

"Be quiet, you." Then he drops his head back against the cushions again, eyes closed, one finger slowly tracing a line back and forth on my upper arm.

I roll my eyes a little and relax back against him, smiling to myself. We sit silently for a bit, and I'm feeling looser by the second. I don't know if it's the wine or if it's just the man next to me, but it feels so right – us, here, together. I can see myself doing this with Edward for a really long time. Maybe always.

Even though he's kept me on my toes the whole evening, with the teasing and the smoldering, I can't remember having a better time.

Though we can hear the laugh track, the volume is low enough that it's all sort of background noise. I'm just basking in the whole experience of cuddling – for lack of a better word – with someone I'm hopelessly attracted to. It's the sweetest kind of torture. I try not to guzzle my wine, but I do allow myself a long, generous sip.

My stomach is heavy and warm, reinforcing the slight buzz I had going from our night out at dinner, then a bar – or maybe four. Things are a little fuzzy at the moment. Likely the after-effects of our own private pub-crawl. It was so much damn fun, but I have a feeling things will only get better from here.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_Edward's opinions on Big Bang Theory are my brother's. He's a bit of a screenwriting snob. I think the show's pretty damn funny, even if I'm a biology chick. _

_As usual, if you recognize any pop culture (book quotes, movies, TV shows, etc.), you know I don't own it. Theirs, not mine. Just popped in there for your entertainment._

_Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Anyone ever have an incredibly shitty month? Just shitpile... after shitpile... after shitpile? Sucks, doesn't it? Bad things really do come in threes. Stupid superstition. The only thing that helped was pouring out this story faster than I've written anything in years. I guess my mind needed a distraction from the shit sundae of the last month, and this is the result._

_So talk to me. I'm pissed because I have tickets to a screening of Anchorman 2 tonight and I can't go because I can't find a babysitter. Grr._

_See you tonight with another chapter!_

_Oh, one last thing... anyone have any banner making skills? I'd be eternally grateful if anyone would like to make a banner. :) No pressure, I love you all anyway. _


	2. Chapter 2

_This one is really short. It just worked out that way. Pay attention to the timestamps, because this fic jumps around a little bit. If you've got any questions, just ask. _

_Forgot to add this the first time, but I'm sure you all know – Twilight isn't mine. _

_Thanks to KristenLynn for the beta and so much more. Have I mentioned she's the wind beneath my wings?  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER TWO~  
**

**/ he said: **_The Point of No Return – 1:30 a.m._

* * *

You are so Goddamn beautiful.

Those eyes of yours are the biggest, most captivating things I've ever seen. Like dark, expensive whiskey, they glimmer and gleam just like two fingers of my favorite fine single malt, just as deep and velvety warm. It brings to mind the smooth, searing taste on my tongue.

And it makes me wonder what _you_ taste like. Ten times better, I bet.

Now I've got you pressed up against me – and I'm in heaven, feeling all those soft, delicious, gentle curves. Damn if it isn't better than anything I've imagined since I met you. It's also inspiring quite a reaction down lower. I've been fighting a semi most of the night and it's rapidly becoming a losing battle.

I don't care if this is only our first "official" date. I don't know everything about you, but I do know that I want to know it all. I want to know your most embarrassing childhood memories and maybe tell you some of mine. I want to take you out and show you off, and I want to stay in on quiet, rainy nights, wrapped up in a blanket on your couch. I want a picture of us to put in my office; maybe a few racy ones for my camera roll.

But at the root of it all I'm a guy… and what I _really_ want to do is fuck you. Repeatedly. I want to know what you look like first thing on a lazy Sunday morning, warm and naked in my bed. But you need to know that even when I _fuck_ you hard, it will never be just that. Because I'm falling for you – practically tumbling right off the cliff, and I don't even care. It feels good.

It feels right.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

I know, this is little more than a drabble. I hate that. But it works. That being said, I really loved seeing the familiar names in the reviews. You guys are the best.

Given the right incentive, I just might post another chapter before I head to bed tonight...

Spread the word, guys. I need some internet validation. (Not that what I've already received isn't enough - it's awesome. But I'm greedy...and possibly a little tipsy. I poured my first glass of wine - AKA "Mommy's Juice" - the minute Mr. araeo got home at 5:30.) Totes Magotes. Sorry, I just saw that commercial with James Earl Jones narrating Facebook conversations...

I love you guys. Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

_So here's another one, because the last chapter was so short. This one is a bit longer, but not much. Now I'm headed for bed, since Little araeo wakes up earlier than the damn birds. She sure didn't get that from me or her father. _

_As always, KristenLynn is the boss of me. I owe her my eternal thanks. _

_Again, pay attention to the timestamps. I hope you all enjoy! _

* * *

**~CHAPTER THREE~**

**/ she said: **_Approaching the last stop on the Drunk Train, 1:43 a.m._

* * *

Eventually both our drinks are dry. Edward sets our empties on the side table and rests his now-free hand on my thigh. Yep, my leggings are useless. I swear I feel like he's leaving a hot hand print right above my knee.

"Smooth Criminal" starts playing on low in the back of my crazy head, and my mind starts going crazy with visions of all kinds of naughty stuff.

My knees have always been ticklish, so his touch sets me on edge. His finger twitches, and I involuntarily giggle and squirm a little, which only serves to clue him in – but he goes right for the attack. I try to shove his hands away, and we end up play-wrestling, gently pushing back and forth. He's so freaking strong, such a… _healthy_ specimen of guy; I wonder how often he hits the gym. Then again, I'm sort of a weakling. I'm relatively happy with my body, but I know I really need to work on my tone. It's no surprise to me that I end up practically lying across his lap, shoulders braced on the arm of the sofa.

_Interesting. He chooses the very tried – but true – adolescent approach. He's probably been working these moves since he was seventeen. At thirty-one, Edward's had fourteen years to perfect them. _

And apparently they've served him very well. It's certainly working on me.

Edward peers down at me. His eyes blink slowly, pupils getting a little larger, drawing me a little closer into his web. "Let me kiss you," he whispers, head dipping infinitesimally lower.

I'm the one that closes the distance – I just can't help it. My answer is to grab his shoulders, pull him to me, and press my lips against his parted ones. I think I've surprised him; the kiss starts off slow, but then he really gets going, swept up in the moment, taking me with him.

Both hands weave into my hair, his talented fingers massaging my scalp as he lets me get my first taste of him. Tangy, like beer, but even Heineken skunk tastes good on Edward Cullen. Still kissing me, he hums into my mouth and slowly maneuvers us so I'm lying back across the sofa and he's somewhat awkwardly braced above me. He's way too tall for this piece of furniture, but I can still feel the heavy weight of his pelvis on mine, and that nearly sends my eyes rolling back in my head.

He feels so good.

_God, I want him_. _So bad_.

I'm not sure how long we lay like that – kissing, nipping, pausing often for short, heavy breaths before diving right back in. My cardigan has disappeared, and Edward slowly works a hand under my tunic, inching those fingertips higher and higher. The buttons of his shirt are long opened, one by one under our shaking hands.

He unfastens my bra and pushes the cups out of the way, his wandering hands already sliding beneath the cups to teasingly tweak my nipples. Then he palms both breasts, squeezing them together gently, before slowly descending to dip his fingertips just below the waistband of my leggings.

"Can I?" he breathes over my lips, waiting.

"Yeah," I answer, just as breathless, tilting my hips up to encourage him. I don't even make him wait for it; I'm way too far gone.

Just below the leggings, he encounters the lace of my panties. There's barely enough of it to cover the good bits, and he groans when he realizes how close to commando I really am.

"Fuck," he whispers, and then kisses me again.

I can't help but echo him as his fingers explore beneath the lace, which is growing more damp by the second. When one parts my folds and slides inside, I break the kiss and gasp, my gaze locking with his.

There's a desperate, needy glint to his eyes. "God, Bella, I want you so much."

I can tell. I feel him, thick and insistent against my hip. Yeah, my panties are ruined. _I'm_ ruined. And then he adds a second finger.

_Holy shit. This kind of thing just doesn't happen in real life._

This guy's got magnetized fingers and they're drawn right to my g-spot.

Oh, God. I'm gonna die.

At least I'm going in the best way _ever_.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_*** "Smooth Criminal" - Michael Jackson - Jesus Juice peddler. Another thing that starts with a "P." Of course I meant the King of Pop. What other "P" could I possibly mean? (Insert snarky emoticon here.)_

___Little araeo willing, next update late tomorrow morning! _

___Slowly working on review replies. But I'll get there. It's so great to hear from you guys!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Good morning! Little a. is actually taking her morning nap, so here we go! Again, I'm sorry these are so short... I was trying something different - being less wordy is a challenge for me. ;)_

_Thanks everyone for the well-wishes. Things are going better in the araeo household. Now I just have to get through hosting Christmas. YIKES. Send me virtual xanax and wine, please. _

_Thanks to KristenLynn for the beta and so much more.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER FOUR~**

**/ he said: **_Final stop – Operation: Seduce Bella – her apartment, 1:55 a.m._

* * *

Christ, you feel amazing. You make me nervous, almost like I've never done this before. I'm that fucking turned on – all because of you. I'm in a trance, only able to focus on your delicious body spread out before me.

And it's not just the attraction – it's because I fucking _like_ you. You make me laugh. From my strange, nerdy tastes in television and movies, to my smartphone addiction, to my obsession with EDM, I know I'm a complete dork. But you're perfect enough to like it. Like _me._ I've only known you a couple weeks, but I know you can be the best of all worlds: my girl, my rock, my partner in crime.

And then there's the sex.

It's not just the impending reality, the very thought of it's like a mind eraser – a sudden hit of warmth in the gut and a shot to the brain, wiping out every other thing in my head. Filling it instead with filthy thoughts that involve nothing but your naked skin covered by mine. You, gasping my name in my ear.

And now I'm here, in that very moment, and I almost freeze.

_Do you__ like it? Am I being gentle enough? _

_Or do you like it a little bit rougher?_

Just about all of it makes me twitch in my pants. My jeans are uncomfortable, with no relief in sight on this awkward little love seat. My mobility and room to wiggle are severely impaired, but it just gives me an excuse to hold you tighter.

But still, I want you in your bed. Spread out for me on soft, rumpled sheets that smell like you. So I can make them smell like me. Like _us_.

But the question is, will you let me? God, I hope so.

I can't fucking wait.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_Ack! I can't wait either. This might end up being another three update day. One this afternoon, and one more after the kiddo goes to bed. _

_EDM is electronic dance music. Mr. araeo is obsessed with it. So is Little araeo. Sigh. I like it well enough, but I wish she'd jam out to nineties alternative as much as she does to Tiesto podcasts. _

_Thank you all so much for reading. The response has been great. I love hearing your thoughts and seeing all the familiar names!_


	5. Chapter 5

_This one's a longer one - yay!  
_

_As always, thanks to KristenLynn for the beta and so much more. _

* * *

**~CHAPTER FIVE~**

**/ she said: **_Pub crawl, here we come –__ 10 p.m._

* * *

I don't know if I can handle his ability reference all the movies I love. So I quote back. "'Here it goes... Down into my belly... I love Scotch. Scotchy Scotch Scotch.'"

He laughs hard and shakes his head at me, probably because of the way I flubbed the line. "I think it's time to head out. You need some fresh air, and I've got a great Irish Pub in mind that's only a few blocks from here."

I'm not gonna argue, because I don't want this date to end. I'm also sort of buzzed. I really shouldn't have had that Hurricane after dinner, but it was so damn tasty. Just like my date. Besides, I needed some liquid courage while we sat at the table for an hour after Edward settled the bill at dinner, just talking about nothing at all. The two of us are like a damn _Seinfeld_ episode.

The whole way, we quote movies to our hearts' content just like a pair of seventeen-year-olds. He melts my geeky heart completely when he recites Venkman's "Dogs and cats, living together... It's mass hysteria!" line from _Ghostbusters_.

A few minutes after I find us a table, Edward returns from the bar and sets a chilled pint of deep amber-colored, effervescent liquid in front of me. "Hard cider," he explains, taking his seat and a sip of his own brew. "Something a little lighter on the alcohol side – and more filling. You need a cushion for that Mardi Gras poison you had with your very miniscule dinner."

I actually stick my tongue out at him. "It was delicious, thank you very much."

He grins. "I can see that."

"And I can't eat when I'm nervous," I blurt.

"I was wondering if you were one of those girls that eats like a fucking bird. You don't need to – you look pretty damn perfect to me. You'd look gorgeous in anything."

He's obviously never seen me in my favorite pajamas. They have footies.

Nodding like a bobblehead doll, I take a sip of the fizzy cider, narrowly avoiding spilling it down my chin because I didn't wait until my nod was over. Classic Bella.

"Wow." I blink, instantly distracted, savoring the tart bite on my tongue. "This is really good."

Edward's smile turns warmer. "I thought you'd enjoy it."

He leans closer so I can more easily hear what he says in the loud pub, and I'm resisting a perma-grin. Hard. So I take another huge gulp. It may or may not be worthy of a spot on the team for _Beerfest_. He makes me nervous enough to want to attempt Das Boot just for the liquid courage.

I glance around the bar to avoid his penetrating gaze; it's one long, dark room with a very updated mix of old Irish pub and contemporary American hangout. Very hip. The perfect place for Irish hipsters. If those even exist...

We're tucked back in a relatively private (for a full bar) corner of the joint. Only one or two people might notice the pathetic googly eyes I'm making at my date.

"So…" he begins, sliding his beer off to the side to make room for his folded hands. They're resting really close to where I still clutch at my cider. "Are we gonna talk about this?"

I clear my throat. "Talk about what?"

He smiles, and there's just a touch of amused impatience. "Us. You and me."

I sit there with my mouth hanging open a bit while I try to formulate a response.

But Edward doesn't stop there, and his expression darkens with a carnal knowledge that sets my panties ablaze as he covers my hand with one of his warm palms. "I can't stop thinking about you. Keeping my hands off of you is a constant battle."

I really need a gulp of that brew, but my hand is frozen in the heat of his.

"I want to see you," he says bluntly. "In a more than a friend way." He pauses, and then he bows his head before looking up to speak again. "Look, Bella. I'm thirty-one, single, and tired of the bullshit of whatever social scene is _in _at the moment. I want someone to come home to at night. Someone to talk to when I'm so damn sick of the silence of my own apartment that I could scream. Someone to cook dinner for on my nights off. Someone to wrap myself around at night until we wake in the morning.

"Bella, I can see all those things with you. I like what I see, Gorgeous. I want it all," he finishes with a small smile.

I let out a breath. "Wow."

"Is that a good wow or bad wow?"

I smile, my cheeks flaming. "Very good."

Because I want all of those things, too.

When I don't say anything else, he takes a long sip of his dark beer and eyes me playfully. "We'll finish up this round, then head out. I know the perfect next stop on this pub crawl."

I'm getting a little more out of control than I want. "I might have to alternate water on this one," I warn him, "The Chief wouldn't approve of public drunkenness on my part. Wouldn't follow Charlie Swan's Ten Commandments."

Edward full-on grins, and the butterflies in my stomach are suddenly exposed to a radioactive spider and morph into the size of salad plates.

"Let me guess: Commandment number one –" His voice is deep and exaggerated, as if he's trying to speak like Zeus did or something. "Thou shalt not touch His daughter, much less imagine his innocent little girl naked." Then he leans closer and whispers, "Which I've done too many times to count." He waits a beat and then waggles his eyebrows. "And I just did it again."

I burst out laughing and agree. "I'm not that innocent, myself." I contribute my sudden burst of confidence to the little devil grinning on my shoulder.

He laughs. "Are you Britney Spears?"

My mouth drops open for the _way-too-many-th_ time. I'm kind of seriously insulted. Libido successfully knocked back a few notches.

"Ouch," I grimace. "Are you insinuating I'm a little on the crazy side? What do the kids call it these days? Cray-cray?"

He laughs aloud again, much harder this time. His gorgeous eyes crinkle the tiniest bit at the corners, and his lashes almost touch.

Sweet Jesus, those butterflies in my belly are so big it would take a cattle prod to zap them. Not that I would want to kill butterflies. But these suckers are huge! It's getting a bit cramped in there.

"Bella, you really don't see yourself clearly at all, do you?" he questions softly. When I don't answer, just shrug a little, he adds, "I was just teasing. That's a line from a Britney song, isn't it?"

"You're admitting to knowing the lyrics to 'Hit Me (Baby, One More Time)?'" As much as I can tell he enjoys teasing me, I like giving it right back to him.

He smirks and says, "I think that's from 'Oops, I Did it Again.'"

I raise my eyebrows. "You sure seem to know your Britney... I think I'm legally required to take your man card and shred it now."

He holds up his hands and shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "Hey, I was in high school in the late nineties. That top forty shit was all over the radio."

We continue on in much the same way: flirting, joking, and people watching as we nurse our drinks and pay the tab. When we leave for the next stop on our quest, he helps me put on my jacket, making sure to run his hands down my arms. He even leaves his hand riding on the small of my back as he escorts us out.

It gives me the tingles.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

___I left my purse in the cart in the parking lot at Walmart today. I think being a mommy has rotted my brain. Either that, or it's all the wine I drink in the evenings. Thank God for the good Samaritan that turned it in to customer service. Wanna know the worst part? It's a huge, brightly-colored Mommy bag. How the hell could I not notice it was still in the cart? What's next? Little araeo? Sigh. _

_Thank you again for all your support! Still trying to get to those review replies. Maybe I can knock out a few before the little one wakes up again. See you tonight with an EPOV.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_Another short one... what can I say? Edward is a man of few words. Timestamps are still important... and I still don't own Twilight. _

_KristenLynn is the wielder of the red pen, but I tinker afterwards. Any mistakes are mine.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER SIX~**

**/ he said: **_First stop, Operation Seduce Bella – Dinner, 8:30 p.m._

* * *

You're not eating enough – barely picking at your chicken Cobb. What the hell kind of meal is that anyway? Lettuce and chicken and a bunch of other chopped up shit? There's no red meat in it. Not worth my time. The only redeeming thing in there is bacon. But even though you're eating like a damn bird, you do seem to enjoy it.

You know something's up, and it's making you jumpy. I'm barely able to keep this shit under wraps anymore. I've got a hunch you want me, too, and it's time to take the risk. I want you in my life – and in my bed.

But I can't tell you that yet. So we're going into some moderately important shit this evening: the parents.

The very concept of your father scares me to death. The man has a gun and permission to use lethal force. I'm pretty sure the Chief would explode if he knew the lurid thoughts I have about you. He'd shoot me in the balls for sure.

It's still not enough to keep me away. I'm as crazy as you are.

So I tell you a little about my equally batty family, attempting a strange sort of one-upmanship: I'll see your Law-Man father, and raise you a well-meaning OCD control freak and his high-strung, yet incredibly sweet, perfectionist wife. AKA my crazy-ass parents.

"My dad's Chief of the ER at Harborview. I followed in his footsteps, insomuch as becoming a doctor. But I knew in residency that Emergency isn't for me. I'm the newest partner at a primary care clinic in the neighborhood. That's how I ended up at your favorite sandwich shop. I'm low peon on the totem pole, you see. I get lunch duty three times a week, and that day we ordered Demitri's. Nothing beats their hot ham, turkey and bacon melt."

You snort, and it's so damn cute. "That's such a 'guy' sandwich. Literally – "guy" like Guy Fieri."

I throw my head back and laugh. "You mean the shirt flames, backwards sunglasses guy? That douche-nozzle must think he has eyes in the back of his head."

Cracking up, you agree. "But the dude sure knows his delicious shit."

Maybe someday I'll take you on one of those "Triple-D" road trips. Watch you eat a huge, greasy bacon cheeseburger. Cheer on your attempt to eat an Al's Italian Beef in my hometown of Chicago. The thought of you nibbling on delicious, greasy, cheesy goodness is nearly enough to make me moan on its own, but the chance of hearing one of those very sounds humming from your throat turns me on. Of course, that's all after I cure you of your cute nervousness around me.

I'll make sure I'm your place to land, to lean on – I'll make sure that you've got no reason for those nerves.

Unless they're the good kind. The ones that make your nipples tighten and your cheeks blush pink. Those anxious thoughts that wonder when I'll come closer, when I'll take your hand.

When I'll kiss you.

I'm not talking about a simple good night kiss. No, you're wondering when I'm going to throw my control out the window and lay one on you like I really want to. But now's not the time. Not yet. So I keep that need to myself and continue the banter. You challenge me in ways I never imagined, and I fucking like it. I want more.

"I'm telling you, after six hours of crying kids, common colds, and perverted, hypochondriac middle-aged women, that sandwich is literally heaven in my tummy. I love it like Ron Burgundy loves his scotch." I grin, letting you see the interest, the amused fascination – and the plain old lust – in my eyes.

And when you spout the actual quote from the movie in response – albeit a bit mangled – I fall for you just a little bit faster.

* * *

_I just saw on Science Channel that they're doing another series with Carl Pilkington! This pleases me immensely. Can't wait for _The Moaning of Life_ in January. More low-key, pitifully cute complaining and completely, ridiculously true, hilarious observations of the world around us. Happy birthday to me._

_I overcooked Mr. araeo's steak tonight. Which means I didn't serve it to him directly out of the package. *shudder*_

_Next up is another EPOV - I know, I'm keeping you on your toes. Until Little araeo's next nap... I bid you adieu. _

_Yeah. I've had some wine. And by "some," I mean enough to regret it in the morning. Have I mentioned that I love you all?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Good thing I edited this last night, because I'm thinking Little araeo's morning nap isn't gonna happen. Sigh. No shower for me._

_KristenLynn betas, but I messed around in here after I got it back. Any mistakes are mine. Twilight isn't._

* * *

**~CHAPTER SEVEN~**

**/ he said: **_Operation: Seduce Bella going well so far – 10:50 p.m._

* * *

You make good on your promise to switch to water for this stop. I think it's a good decision; I want you to remember every single minute of this night with me. However, I've only nursed two beers all night, so I go with the crowd and order a Pabst tallboy. You call me a lemming, shooting me that sexy, teasing grin.

"I'm so glad you shaved that awful creeper mustache. It reminded me of my Dad," you say, observing the bar's other clientele with a dubious look – many of them happen to sport beards, ranging from slightly trimmed to grizzly bear mountain man. There's also no shortage of the aforementioned "creeper 'staches."

"It was for Mo-vember. How can you fault me? I was channeling my inner 'Ron F*ing Swanson' for charity," I defend with a hint of a pout. It totally works on you. I learned that before the end of the first time I met you. Was it really only weeks ago? It seems like I've known you forever.

"Admit it; that 'stache was creepy. And you hated it too. You scratched it all the time."

"It _was_ fucking itchy," I agree. Plus, I had this feeling I'd never get my mouth on you if the 'stache didn't take one for the team – maybe next year will be the year of the 'stache for me... Probably not if you have anything to say about it.

So I guess next year won't be year of the 'stache either. But if you're there with me, I don't have a problem with that.

"What if you would've had to renew your driver's license picture?" you ask in mock horror. "You'd be stuck looking like a potential child molester for like, seven years. A _hot_ potential child molester, but still."

"How you flatter me," I mock right back, trying to keep the slightly sour look from my face. "You're right. I probably would have shaved. Lucky for me, I usually renew in June."

"Hey, at least I said you'd be hot."

"That's all you have to say?" I ask teasingly, using the opportunity to lean closer to you. Inhaling deeply, I bite back a curse. How can I still smell that fucking mouthwatering scent of yours, even after the trail of restaurants and bars I've dragged you through?

"You've gotta take what you get," you tell me, shrugging,

That cute little grin is back on your face. There's the tiniest dimple in your left cheek, when you smile just the right way. I want to brush my lips over it. Taste it with the very tip of my tongue.

So I do. But when I'm finished, I'm still not done. I don't go far.

No, I head right for the tempting corner of your mouth, and finally claim those pink, soft lips just like I've been dreaming about. It's less intense than I need it to be, but I know we're in a crowded bar. Who wants to be one of _those _people, the ones who make out obliviously in a crowded place at the drop of a hat?

I'd love to kiss you senseless, right here, right now, then lay you out on top of this high-top table so I can lift that torturous tunic thing up above your waist. Expose the soft, hidden skin of your belly above those sweet, perfectly clingy tights that cup your pussy the way I want to. I want to take it even farther, expose the swells of those pretty little tits I can't wait to get my hands on.

But I can't – yet. Soon?

With those thoughts, I know I have to pull back. No matter how much I want to push my tongue into your hot little mouth. Other things, too. One other _thing_ in particular. I can't help but moan softly as I pull away, but the whiny hipster music swallows up the sound. I wouldn't mind if you heard me, though. Then you'd know. Know how much you make me want you.

And when I peer down into those warm-whiskey eyes, there's no way I can miss the exact same need in yours.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_Bella's back sometime this afternoon, at the mercy of Little araeo. Thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Ah, sweet nap time. I should be wrapping presents, but every flat space in my house is covered in baby toys. _

_Still absolutely loving your responses. So glad you're enjoying the story! _

_KristenLynn fixes my mistakes and listens to me complain about random crap. She's a saint.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER EIGHT~**

**/ she said: **_Next stop, Howl at the Moon – 11:45 p.m._

* * *

We don't stay long in hipster-heaven after he incinerates my panties with that kiss. When we pull apart we're both breathing hard, the air crackling between us as we return to our respective corners. Edward chokes down his PBR and I sip my water, but the conversation does stall awkwardly before he distracts me again with the teasing. And the flirting.

We're plastered together when we leave the narrow door of Hipster-Hell, but neither one of us makes a move to give the other more room. He obviously wants me close, and I'm eating it up.

I really need to kiss this man again, but he's busy towing down the block to this piano place he wants me to see. I'm actually looking forward to it, since the people-watching is great entertainment factor alone. That said, would it be too much trouble just to stop for a second, push me up against a building, and kiss the shit out of me before we get there? I'd greatly appreciate it. We really should get it out of our systems before we spontaneously combust, right?

The place is dark and kind of smoky when we get there, but the smell is definitely more like incense than cigarettes. It's sort of pleasant. We settle into a little table near the back, and I order another cider. I need one after that walk. This time, Edward chooses the water.

Before the cocktail waitress returns, Edward takes my hand in his on top of the table. Underneath, his toes nudge mine. I'm borderline giddy.

"You play anything?"

He frowns, thinking for a second. "What, like sports?"

"No, like musical instruments – and I don't mean the skin flute," I dig, loving that I can tease him a little bit. "But you can tell me all about your illustrious athletic aspirations if you want to. I plan on finding out every little thing about you, you know."

"Stalker," he quips, squeezing my hand. "I ran track all through school, including college." He shrugs, like it's no big deal.

I know it really is. You usually have to be reasonably talented to run college track. A lot of those kids are Olympic team material.

"Believe it or not," he continues, "I do happen to play the piano. I'm classically trained."

My eyes widen. "Wow. That's amazing. Think they'd let you get up there and duel too?"

He looks a little scared, and slightly shyly blurts, "No, Bella – it's been a while since I played. I'm bound to be a little rusty."

I try to hide my grin with my other hand, just as the waitress arrives with our drinks. She eyes me sideways as she catches Edward's hand covering mine, and things get a little awkward when it doesn't even budge. If she wants a good tip, she's got no choice but to calmly arrange our drinks and coasters around his low-key, yet very effective, display of PDA, and she's a little miffed.

I get an idea. It's just a tiny bit petty, but I really can't resist. "I have a question for you," I say in my nicest, sweetest voice. Kill her with kindness and she'll hate me more for being nice.

"Sure," she says, almost completely concealing the sour note in her voice.

Edward is hot. I get it. But he's mine – at least that's what we both seem to want. I'd be jealous in her shoes, too.

"Do they ever let patrons play the pianos? My..." _gulp_, "boyfriend is a classically trained _pianist._" I draw the word out. I know what I said, but she's not quite sure what she heard over the crescendo on stage. At least, that's what I guess by the way she eyes Edward's crotch and bites the corner of her lip. Trying not to laugh, I finish with a breathy, "I'd love to hear you play, baby," now staring deep into Edward's eyes. I even bat my lashes to lay the poop on extra thick.

He coughs to cover up a laugh, and I'm glad I could give him that in spite of his little bout of stage fright.

At the same time, the music comes to a roaring conclusion and one of the men on stage announces: "My partner, Dean, needs a whiskey break. He's gotta loosen up those old fingers. Since I'm not an old pussy, I'm not done playing. We got any challengers tonight?"

Dean good-naturedly flips him off as he exits the stage. He really does head straight for the bar.

The room bursts out in applause, while our waitress starts waving one arm in the air, molesting Edward's shoulder with the other, cheering, "I've got one, guys!"

"Bring him up," the piano jockey says ominously_, _hamming it up, playing the theme to _Jaws_. "Think you can keep up with good, ol'-fashioned, groundbreaking jazz?" The audience cheers louder once they catch a glimpse of Edward. "Fancy some Count Basie?"

By now, Edward is frying me with the Super Hot Laser Ray of Death. I'm going to pay for this later, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll enjoy every minute of it. A lot.

Suddenly his expression changes as he takes a steadying breath and stands, and it's like he's flipped a switch. He doesn't look one bit as shy as he had before – he oozes a confidence that makes my panties a little damp. The waitress keeps her claws on him the whole way up to the stage, and I feel smug when he quickly extracts himself from her grasp.

He leans into the microphone. "Your choice. I can keep up."

I know that every female eye in the place is on him as he takes his place in the spotlight, settling comfortably behind the baby grand across from What's-His-Name. I'm not the world's most jealous person, but the way everyone is eye-raping him does get to me a little. All it takes is one quick grin directed right at me, and I know I have nothing to worry about. Except what I've probably got coming to me later tonight, but we all know how I feel about that. As Martha Stewart says, "It's a good thing."

"You know 'Swingin' the Blues'?" Piano Guy asks.

Edward just smirks. "You mean 'Dance of the Gremlins'?"

Wiseass grins, counts out a fast, furious tempo, and off they go, blending with each other seamlessly at first, and then taking turns trying to one-up the other.

It's like a piano-style step-off or something out of _You Got Served._ They battle and battle before coming together for a smashing, crashing, perfect crescendo to end the piece. Everyone in the place is on their feet, including me. I'm even bouncing up and down like that damn waitress. Rusty my ass! This guy's a prodigy.

I'm thoroughly impressed. Thoroughly turned on, too. He's so getting invited up to my apartment tonight. Screw the three-date rule. Edward Cullen is freaking irresistible.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_I can't believe how many of you have done things like I did yesterday with the purse. I'm so glad! (Not that you lost your purses, but that I'm not the only one to have a 'Mommy Moment' like that.) Nice to know I'm not alone. ;)_

_Next up is Edward. Or Dr. Seduceward, as sugunary called him. I'm worried. I think he might kill you all. Oh boy. See you tonight!_


	9. Chapter 9

_KristenLynn is the Mariah to my Nick Cannon. Except we're not married. Semantics. _

_Note the timestamp - pub crawl is over! You know what that means..._

___Edward is probably going to kill you... and then you're going to kill me. Welp._

* * *

**/ he said:**_ Hard to say anything when your mouth is this busy – 2:10 a.m. Location: Down Under__._

* * *

I can't resist the urge to taste. And taste again. My knees are killing me from kneeling on the hardwood, but it's the best way for me to reach that perfect spot. I can take a little pain for this. For you. Besides, I can't fit on this midget love seat as easily as you can.

Slowly, I twist two fingers and gently push them inside, planting my other palm flat on your lower belly. I flick and flick my tongue, sometimes soft, and sometimes hard. Through it all, I pump my fingers into you, trying to coax a little mind-blowing pleasure out of that tender spot that makes you scream. When you clamp down around my fingers, I just want to do it all over again. Make you come again.

By the time you stop trembling and push my face away, my dick is about to rip through my fucking pants. If I don't get in you soon, it'll kill me.

I pull you up to a sitting position in front of me and kiss your belly, drag my lips up to your red little mouth, stopping to play with those reddened, needy nipples along the way. When I slide my arms around your back, they almost double back around you. I cup the side swells of your tits in my palms as I place my lips on your ear and breathe, "I wanna fuck you in your bed, Gorgeous." I press an open-mouthed kiss just behind your ear, savoring the way you shiver. Pulling back to look in your eyes, I whisper, "Let me in, Bella."

You look a little panicked, but your words disagree. "I'll let you _in_ now."

I need more room than this to fuck you properly, and I tell you so. While your cheeks blaze pink, bright like a light bulb filament, you still seem panicked at my suggestion of moving this to your bed. However, I'm not that easily deterred. Just like I thought earlier this evening: I want to roll around with you in your sweet-smelling sheets, but I want to leave them smelling like _us_.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_As George Takei says, "Ohh myyy."  
_

_I need another glass of wine. How 'bout you guys?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Since this one's so short...  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER TEN~**

**/ she said: **_ Crashing fast from high-as-a-kite connubial bliss – who-the-hell-cares a.m._

* * *

"Do it here," I pant, trying not to stiffen up and give away my sudden terror. "I can't wait. Here. Now."

_No. We can't do it there! I can't let him see my room! He's gonna think I'm a hoarder!_

The reality is, I moved in a couple weeks before I met Edward and haven't gotten around to unpacking the bedroom yet. Clothes and toiletries are everywhere, making it look like a sweatpants-slash-date-night-themed beauty pageant exploded on my bed, and you can barely make it to said resting place through a narrow, winding path between a million boxes. They're stacked more than three high in some places!

Does he really want to fuck me on top of a pile of wrinkled laundry? I sincerely doubt it!

How the hell am I gonna talk him out of this? To tell the truth, I don't really want to – I want him that badly. I just have to decide if the sex trumps my embarrassment.

Then he lightly rubs his stubble-coated cheeks over my nipples, caressing them with his face. Flicking them with that talented tongue. Gently nipping and sucking and licking... and driving me insane. I need this man in me more than I need to breathe.

The decision is made: embarrassment? What embarrassment? It's not like I forgot to shave my legs, right?

Oh, shit. I think I might have.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_KristenLynn wields the red pen... and the ruler. Jesus, that shit hurts._

_This is just because I love you guys. Many thanks to those of you who have spread the word. Feel free to keep doing it. Nominate me for shit. After all, if I mean nothing on the Internet, my life is meaningless. LOL. _

_Yeah. I've been in the wine. Did you expect anything else?_


	11. Chapter 11

_I promise, I'll relieve all the UST by this evening. Thanks so much for your continued support. _

* * *

**~CHAPTER ELEVEN~**

**/ he said: **_When one's balls are this blue, one doesn't notice the time._

* * *

I stand with you in my arms, my arms still wrapped tightly around your narrow ribs. "Tell me where your room is, or I start wandering. The quicker I find it, the quicker we both get exactly what we want." I let one hand drag down your spine, cup your ass. Grind my aching dick up against your pelvis. You arch your back and press those plump breasts against my chest, moaning loudly. You've lost this battle, and you know it.

_God, I love the noises you make._

And that I'm the one to pull those out of you... well, that fact makes me desperate to get inside you.

"It's too messy," you pout, but I'm not listening anymore – until I get to my destination, where I stumble blindly into the dark bedroom and knock over several heavy boxes in the process.

"What is this, an obstacle course?" I pant, still weaving my way toward the faint shadow of the bed, barely visible through all the clutter.

"Told you it was messy," you snip, and I'm so far gone, even your bitchiness turns me on. Just like everything else about you.

_Oh, Bella, but you have no idea how determined I am. _

"Don't care," I insist against your mouth, and suck on the tip of your tongue. "Need you underneath me."

When I finally make it, I have to put you down just to kick all the laundry off to make room for us on the bed, but I'm long past giving a fuck. That bed's right in front of me, and I'm going to pin you to it in less than 3.2 seconds. I just might fuck you right through those soft, rumpled sheets, too. But that's only after I take my time with you – take you slow and soft... explore every inch of your gorgeous little body. Drive you insane with need for me.

I shuck my jeans and boxers off, wincing when my dick gets caught in the fabric. With you watching me like I'm something to eat the whole time, I'm off-balance and less coordinated than usual. But as soon as I'm free, I strip you out of the rest of your clothes and pin you to the mattress, burying my face in your neck. God, you smell amazing. I'm overwhelmed with sensation at the full, glorious contact of your body pinned under mine, and my eyes literally roll back in my head.

You're fucking perfection.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_KristenLynn keeps it clean. I know, it's hard to believe I make mistakes, but I do. ;) Just ask my husband._

_I also like to start sentences with conjunctions and end them with prepositions. 'Cause that's how people talk, yo. Gotta love the English language. _


	12. Chapter 12

_I'll just let you get to it.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER TWELVE~**

**/ she said:** _Condoms should always be opened carefully – and never with one's teeth!_

* * *

Edward looks at me like he's a predator about to pounce – and boy, do I wanna be caught. His normally green eyes are black in the darkness, glinting with sharp need and a heavy, insistent want. He plants a forearm next to my head as he holds himself above me. Out of the corner of my eye, a gold foil packet glints between his fingers.

"Can I put it on you?" I ask somewhat timidly, licking my suddenly dry lips. I'm nervous again.

"I'd be an idiot turn down a chance to get your soft little hands on my dick," he whispers in my ear, then nips sharply at my earlobe. Just as quickly, he rolls onto his back beside me, exposing his hoo-ha-clenching perfection in all its glory. Raising an eyebrow as he hands me the condom, he pleads, "Be gentle with me?"

I playfully smack him on the chest and rip open the condom with my teeth. Of course, I'm not that suave – both of us hear the tell-tale snap of broken latex before I can get the packet completely open.

Edward suddenly looks extremely serious. "Please tell me you've got a condom somewhere in this mess."

_Of course I don't have any condoms! I haven't seen any action in two years. My vibrator doesn't exactly need prophylactics._

"It's been two years?" he asks quietly, tossing the ruined rubber to the side and gently taking my chin in one hand.

"I said that out loud?"

He nods, an amused smile curving his slightly swollen lips.

Shit. I clear my throat. "More or less," I croak. "No big deal."

A faint smirk crosses his lips. "I'm not exactly sure how to put this to you, but... It's kind of a _big _deal."

"Are you quoting _Anchorman_ again?"

"Maybe."

He plants his full-on grin right on top of mine, giving me his full weight and letting us both sink down into the soft mattress. We're both completely naked now, his hips cradled perfectly in mine. Over and over, he grinds his pelvis against mine, coating his thick cock in slick wetness from between my thighs.

"I don't have another condom. I think that means we have a rather large –" he thrusts his hips, "- _problem_ on our hands."

"But you can't just stop," I pant, trying not to writhe like an overacting porn star underneath him. "I need you inside."

"Are you on the pill?" he whispers, trailing his hot lips across my cheek. Cupping his hand around the back of my thigh, he hitches my leg up around his hip, the length of him slipping right into position. He pushes just the tip of himself in. "Can I have you bare, Gorgeous?"

I arch my back, every single muscle in me clenching up. Edward groans and jerks his hips, pushing in all the way. I've never done it bare like this; it scares me a little. This has all happened so fast, but I've fallen so hard.

"Fuck..." he breathes, holding himself very still. "You feel so good. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." He pulls out, but I hold him tight with both legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him back inside.

"I've been on the pill since I was sixteen," I whisper. "I've never been with anyone without a condom." I run a hand all the way down his spine and grab his ass, going in for the kill. "You're the first to have me like this."

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_I think if I was in your shoes, I'd be ready to kill me. Thanks for putting up with me. Five chapters to go. I think I can hear you all praying that Little araeo takes her afternoon nap today..._

_Thank you, KristenLynn, for pointing out my wonky mistakes, even when you're busy._


	13. Chapter 13

_*sings* _

_We're up all night 'til the sun  
We're up all night to get some  
We're up all night for good fun  
We're up all night to get lucky_

* * *

**~CHAPTER THIRTEEN~**

**/ he said: **_Operation: Seduce Bella – in the words of Borat: Great Success!_

* * *

Heaven.

I'm pressed up against soft, hot, wet and slick heaven. I have got no idea how I'll hold off until I can make you come. My balls are drawing up tight already, and I've barely begun to fuck you.

I've never gone bare, just like you. Knowing we share this turns me on like you wouldn't believe.

Pinning your eyes with mine, I tell you clearly, "I'm clean, baby. You can trust me." You don't say anything, but then you give me that barely perceptible nod and bite your lip. It's really your eyes that do all the talking – and they give me all the answers I need.

I flip us over, so you're straddling my hips, ready to ride.

"Put me inside you," I whisper, nudging my cock up between your thighs, coating myself in your wetness. Maybe if I give control over to you, I can draw this out a little. Make it last. Because though I know this won't be the last time I have you, this will be one time I'll never forget.

The first of many times, I hope.

Those deep, dark molasses eyes never leave mine as you grasp my dick and hold it steady, then sink that luscious, wet heat around me. Once I'm buried deep, you sit up and start to move, your body rolling like a slow, warm wave above me. I clamp my hands around your hips, meeting your every twist and roll with a sharp upward thrust. The sight of you is enough to make my mouth water.

Sex has never been this good.

There's never been a girl like _you_ wrapped around me: so sweet and hot, so sexy-innocent. I've never felt like this – _cared_ like this – so quickly and recklessly and without abandon. So far, I've been letting my dick rule when it comes to you, but only because he's on a faster track than my brain... or my heart. The destination, however, is the same for all three: it's wherever you are.

Needing you closer, I sit up and fist your hair at the back of your neck, holding you in place for my kiss. It's harder than I expect to keep you still, because you've gotten greedy with the power and don't stop moving those talented little hips. You feel so fucking good, giving me everything I want: a little bit of fight and a whole lot of sexy, enthusiastic energy. I crush you to me, loving the way your tits mold to my chest. I can feel how hard your nipples are, and I wind a hand between us to pinch and roll the tight, puckered nub.

"Edward," you pant in my ear, burying your face in my neck. "I need... I... can't get there."

You're frustrated, growing desperate. But don't worry, baby – I've got you.

I whisper filthy little nothings in your ear as I wedge my hand lower, lower, until I can feel where my dick spreads you wide. I get my fingers wet, and then thumb that sweet spot I tasted so thoroughly earlier. From the way you writhe and squirm against me, I can tell it makes you fucking nuts. You do the same to me – you always have... always will.

I tell you how hot you make me, how many times I've dreamed of fucking you, how many times I've thought about making you come. How many times I've fantasized about coming inside you. In your hot little mouth. That tight, perfect pussy. I tell you how much I want to paint those glorious tits in my cum, and maybe smear it all over the sweet curves of your ass.

That does it. You scream out my name, your body choking my dick in some kind of mind-blowing submission hold – and I'm only too willing to submit. Your teeth sink into the swell of my shoulder, and _fuck... _That shit hurts. But it also has a direct line to my balls, making them draw up tight and full, ready to release everything into you. It's all I can do to hold back while you ride me desperately, taking what you need.

I fucking love it.

It's only when you've slumped against me, spent, pressing tiny little kisses to my neck, that I ask, "Can I come in you?"

My voice is barely louder than our combined, labored breathing. I clutch at your hips and move them above me, yanking you down onto my dick – hard. I need to bury myself in you as deep as I can get. Wrap myself around you. Take you. _Consume_ you. I'm getting desperate, unsure I can hold out any longer.

Just as I'm about to start begging, you nuzzle your lips into my neck. "I trust you," you say again, still breathless, and I smile.

Winding my hand back into your hair, I kiss you again and flip us once more so I can hover over you. I'm still inside you; I can't bear to leave until I can leave something of me behind. I fuck you hard, pinning you down, remembering my earlier fantasy about screwing you deep into these sweet-smelling sheets.

It's your name on my lips when I let go, grinding my hips into yours as I give you everything, coming harder than I ever have in my fucking life.

You tempt me more than the devil himself, but the only Hell I can think of is a world without you - you're my Heaven, and I'll never give you up.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_Was it everything you ever dreamed of and more? Kidding. Happy Friday night! Have a drink for me (well... technically _with_ me, since if I was an action figure, I'd come with a bottle of wine). And a diaper bag._

_KristenLynn - When are you going to finish those stories I've been beta-ing for you, so I can recommend them? ;)_

_Oh, and I didn't write the song up there. Daft Punk and Pharrell did. But you guys knew that. I just thought it was kinda appropriate._


	14. Chapter 14

_Posting this because I am now internet famous. ComedyCentral retweeted my Scott Pilgrim tweet! Holy crap. Now I'll never be able to sleep... unless I drink more wine. _

_Three chapters left after this. Saturday is my day to sleep in, so you'll get the next update sometime in the afternoon. This has been a lot of fun, guys. I should do this more often. If only my brain would cooperate..._

* * *

**~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~**

**/ she said: **_In the watery light of morning, the crack of dawn isn't the only sound – 5:45 a.m. _

* * *

It's still really dark in my room when I crack open one eye. The soft patter of rain _tap-tap-taps_ at the window, filling the room with relaxing ambient noise. Unfortunately, it also reminds me that I desperately need to pee.

It's a feat in its own to untangle myself from Edward without waking him up. Avoiding all the shit in my _Hoarders_-worthy bedroom is another story. Fortunately, I make it to the toilet without mishap. I take my human moment and then freshen up: washing my hands, thoroughly brushing my teeth, and finger-brushing my rather tangled hair. Catching a glimpse of the girl in the mirror is a complete surprise.

She's hot. Sexy, even. Desirable. Desir_ed_. Finally, I'm beginning to see what Edward has always insisted I'm blind to.

With a burst of confidence, I head back out into the bedroom – and promptly walk straight into a Bella-high stack of cardboard. I go down with a shriek among the heavy clatter of boxes, losing all hope that Edward hasn't been rudely awakened by now.

There goes my smooth, seductive entrance.

"Shit, Bella! Are you okay?" Edward calls out, and I wish I could see him in all his naked glory as he hops out of bed – but all the boxes block my view while I lay sprawled out on the floor.

"Over here," I call back, waving a hand and hauling myself to my feet. "Sorry." I shrug, casting my face down to hide my flushed cheeks. "I didn't want to wake you."

Casting me a dry, amused look, he says, "Obviously." He sighs. "You know, we're going to have to do something about this." He gestures to the mess, sweeping his arm around the cardboard-strewn room.

"I'm still unpacking." I mumble an excuse, shuffling back to the bed, picking my way through the chaos.

"No excuses," he says flatly. "You'll soon learn I love nothing more than a good challenge, Gorgeous. Besides, nothing's ever gonna keep me away from you. Certainly not something as meaningless as a little junk." He meets me in front of the bed and hauls me up against him, kissing me hard.

I feel branded. Claimed. When he finally pulls back, I'm pretty much boneless. Good thing the bed is right here, or I'd melt into a puddle on the floor.

"Get in that bed and wait for me. You'll need to help me take the chill off when I get back."

"Okay," I squeak, hypnotized by his naked back as he heads for the bathroom. I'm a little ashamed that I forget to look at his naked ass. But I have plenty of time for that.

I'm huddled under the covers before I even know what I'm doing. Thoroughly under his spell, that's what I am. I'm dickmatized. It's a real term, I'm sure – I read it somewhere. Seems like a pretty accurate description of my symptoms.

Before I can catch up with my thoughts, Edward is sliding back into the bed, bringing with him a billowing tuft of chilled air as he tosses the covers over our heads. When he plasters his naked body against mine from head-to-toe, covering me in smooth-skinned warmth, I shiver in pleasure and huddle closer.

_Snuggling with Edward Cullen – it's a dirty job, but someone has to do it_.

"Jesus, your feet are freezing!" he gasps when I tuck my chilled toes into the tender spaces behind his knees.

"Sorry," I laugh, but he knows I'm not. I don't even pretend to be apologetic.

Edward then proceeds to show me "where the horse bit him," grabbing the fleshy part of my knee, and we wrestle until he ends up right smack between my thighs. Both his hands hold my knees spread wide, his fingertips digging into the tender, sensitive skin, his pelvis pressed tightly to mine.

Interesting. Once again, he goes with the adolescent approach.

_Silly Edward. Don't you know? You can have me anytime, anywhere. No tricks needed._

Though I have to admit, wrestling with him is a lot of fun. Especially when I end up pinned underneath him.

His expression sobers and his eyes grow dark. I can see the shift in mood come over him as he realizes exactly how close he is to penetrating me. Those eyes snap up to mine, clear, needy green locked onto me like heat-seeking missiles.

"Again?" he whispers, barely audible over the chaotic beating of my overexcited pulse. "Please? I need you."

I gasp hard and something low in my belly goes _boom!_ My ovaries are gone, for sure. Briefly, I worry that I might stroke out, but there's definitely a lot of life in me – especially in the below-the-belt area_. _

My suddenly autonomous hips snap up and push against his, shamelessly rubbing myself all over Edward's prize-worthy, top-shelf quality man-parts. From the feel of things, he's enjoying it just as much as I am, if not more. He's so damn hard... And I need him, too.

"Again," I whisper back. "Definitely again...and _again_."

"Sounds fucking fantastic to me," he growls, consuming me with a searing kiss.

It's not long before he has me screaming his name again. I just hope my upstairs neighbor – the retired nun – has her hearing aid turned off. Since I'm already committing a mortal sin, I might as well enjoy it thoroughly.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_I messed with this one a lot after KristenLynn saw it (and there was wine involved), so any mistakes are mine.  
_


	15. Chapter 15

_Really short. So short that KristenLynn didn't even find a mistake in this one.  
_

_But I hope it's really sweet.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER FIFTEEN~**

**/ he said: **_She's even more beautiful in the morning – 9:37 a.m._

* * *

There are pillow creases on your cheek. First thing in the morning, you look even more adorable than I imagined. I could lie here forever, just watching you sleep. We haven't known each other long, but I'm so gone for you.

I reach out and lightly brush away a piece of hair that's fallen across your forehead. You wrinkle your nose and sigh, shifting closer to me. I tuck a leg between your knees and bury my face in your fragrant hair, closing my eyes and just... feeling you. Next to me. Wrapped around me. Easily working your way under my skin so deeply that I'll never get you out of my head.

If I hadn't just spent the majority of the night fucking you senseless, I'd start to worry that I've grown a vagina.

But I'm still a man – a man that's hopelessly in love with you.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_The last two are longer ones, which will post later today._

_We're supposed be having this terrible, Christmas travel-ruining winter storm right now. Guess what? Nothing. Nada. Why am I not surprised? I even sent Mr. araeo to the store by himself last night to shop for our Christmas dinner thing. That man can't pick out produce for shit. But I love him anyway. _


	16. Chapter 16

_One more after this... I might cry.  
_

* * *

**~CHAPTER SIXTEEN~**

**/ he said: **_One year later. In church. Nervous as hell – 7:30 p.m._

* * *

It's one year to the day that I met you, and you've never been more beautiful.

In that frothy white veil and satin-encased body, you have me in awe, just as you have from the first time I saw you. Your hair's down, but swept back behind your shoulders. I can't wait to kiss them tonight. Maybe mark you – but only a little bit. Just enough to remind me of our wedding night when I fuck you in the shower tomorrow morning.

Your sexy, delicate collarbones are bare, framing that smooth, slender neck, encircled with your Grandma Swan's pearls. There's a deep blue sash just under your breasts, and below that, the snow-colored satin is smooth and cut close. I allow myself a barely-there smile as I think about what's beneath. What I _put_ _there_.

You think I don't know, but I can read you like a book. I'm pretty sure you're pregnant. And I'm fucking ecstatic. I just can't wait to see how you'll tell me.

I can't help but marvel at my good luck this last year, and it's about to get even better. We've made our very own family. You two are my life now.

I'm the most fortunate bastard alive.

When the Reverend tells me I finally get to kiss you, I'm so damn impatient to get my hands on you that they're shaking. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna cross the line of what's appropriate in the house of God, but I can't help myself. My unsteady hands find purchase on either side of your delicate jaw; a good thing, too, since I can't trust myself to place them any lower and not end up grabbing handfuls of your ass while I haul you up against me.

The next thing I know, we're fucking floating out of the church, dodging the showering buds of lavender on the way to the limo. Let me tell you – dried flowers in the mouth is not a particularly pleasant experience. Once we're safely ensconced in the car, I hack the dry, crumbly buds into the silk pocket square Carlisle lent me earlier, assaulted by the bitter taste. Hope the dry cleaners can take care of that for me.

I'm still on top of the world, though. You're mine, finally. You're the very center of my universe – now and forever.

And I'm sure as fuck yours. Always.

Back there in that sanctuary, I gave you my heart, my future, my devotion. I adore you. I think I've been ready to give you everything from the second we met. I want to give you my all, just as I want the same from you.

But I do have one secret, my love, and you're probably not going to like it. You see, while we're on our honeymoon, I've booked a professional organizer to deal with all of your pack rat shit. By the time we return, it will be safely tucked away in its very own, climate-controlled storage unit, the rest of our crap will be carefully and stylishly arranged to create a peaceful space, and I can finally relax.

What can I say? I hate clutter. But I love _you_.

It's for your own good, love. And my continued sanity. After all, Gorgeous, you did promise me everything – for better or worse. I'm holding you to it. Forever.

**~HS:SS~**

* * *

_All together now... aww.  
_

_Thank you for reading. And the last chapter is right around 2k. A nice, meaty chunk to send you on your way. That rhymed. And I now feel strange because I said "meaty chunk."  
_


	17. Chapter 17

_This is the last one, guys. Thanks for coming along with me.  
_

_KristenLynn is the bestest beta ever. Totes Magotes._

* * *

**~CHAPTER SEVENTEEN~**

**/ she said: **_And the surprises just keep on coming..._

* * *

How could he do this to me? After sweeping me away for a magnificent honeymoon in Bali and treating me like a queen, he brings me home to _this?_ No wonder he pulled out all the stops – it was just to butter me up!

My bedroom is empty! _Empty!_ What has he done with everything?

"Love, I just had it all moved to a storage unit." He shrugs, like it's no big deal that the majority of my stuff is missing.

"I _needed_ that stuff!" I whine, sort of freaking out.

"You don't even know what was in here, Bella," Edward sighed, and I just want to punch him. "You haven't touched it since I met you. Those boxes have been collecting dust in your room for more than a year."

"I have, too," I argue, getting angrier by the second. "All my college textbooks from my major – they were in that Chiquita banana box in the corner," I say indignantly.

He raises a challenging brow. "Which one? I think I counted at least four as Em and I carted them down to his Hummer during my bachelor party."

I just want to growl. Edward can be so heavy-handed.

"You haven't used those things since you moved out of the dorms; you told me so yourself."

"But... but..." I groan and drop my forehead into my hands. "All my stuff... It's _gone._"

Edward comes closer and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "And you'll do just fine without it."

"But..." Yes, I'm so articulate. I know. "Wait a minute – you spent your bachelor party moving stuff out of my apartment?"

Shrugging noncommittally, he clears his throat. "There might have been a keg involved. And a couple pints of Emmett Senior's homemade White Lightning," he mumbles.

I blink in surprise. "Wow. How were you all even alive at the ceremony? I'm impressed."

"It's Senior's moonshine," he says with a grin, like it's obvious. "It's his special recipe – no hangover, guaranteed." Leaning closer, he adds, "But I have to admit... I was pretty hammered. If I remember correctly, I woke up flat on my back with my hand down my shorts."

I stifle a laugh, putting a hand over my mouth.

"It's not funny," he mock growls. "The last thing I recall is imagining you in that hot little white bikini you wore when I took you to the Keys last spring. It's not fair. It's like I had drunken sex with you, but I can't remember it."

I break out into full-blown laughter, tipping my head up to the ceiling. Now I can feel Edward's lips on my temple. And when his lips move, they brush softly against my skin in the most delicious way.

"Am I forgiven?" he asks softly, nuzzling into my hair.

And just like that, I'm distracted, consumed by him again. "I guess," I manage to breathe out, squeezing my eyes shut just to try and calm down.

"This really is for the best. I have to admit, Gorgeous – your boxes were driving me nuts."

"Me too," I agree. "But just the idea of attempting to move all that crap made me cringe."

"Wanna know something?"

"Yeah," I sigh, melting back into him.

"It took us an hour – that's it."

I rear back, looking at him in disbelief. "You're shitting me!" I hiss.

"I had a lot of help, remember? Most of the night was spent consuming copious amounts of alcohol and putting dollar bills in the stripper's G-string with our teeth," he trails off, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Playing along, I say, "Ugh, you're not kissing me until you've gone to the dentist and gargled Listerine for ten full minutes." I pretend to think about it for a minute. "You might need your dad to bring home some of that heavy-duty-disinfectant mouthwash from the hospital."

"Nah," Edward scoffs, "she was clean. She smelled like bubblegum and sparkled," he explains, before he loses it and bursts out into a cackle.

I roll my eyes. "Classy. Stripper glitter. I thought you were a little sparkly on our wedding night. And the next day on the beach, but you insisted it was salt crystals from the ocean."

"Does it help if I promise to love you forever?" He turns suddenly serious, peering down into my face.

I don't know what he sees there, because I'm so damn amused and happy and ticked with him – all at the same time – but it worries him, I can tell. He has nothing to worry about. I only know I can't live without him or his crazy sense of humor.

"There was no stripper, Bella. I was just trying to get a reaction."

"I know you've got a thing for provoking me, silly man. You're lucky you're so damn pretty, or I'd put my foot in your butt," I threaten teasingly.

"Now you're channeling Red Foreman?" he shoots right back.

I stand on my tip-toes until I can almost touch the tip of my nose to his. "If I was, I would have said 'ass.'"

"Touche," he laughs. "But I've seen those heels you wear. I don't want those anywhere near my ass." He pauses, wearing his _thinking face._ "Unless..."

"Is sex the only thing you think about?" Not that I'm complaining. I love the way Edward wants me. I want him the same way.

He looks offended, but in a totally fake way. "Of course not!"

I grin and link my fingers together behind his neck, pulling him closer. "Sure."

"It's true. I think about food, too."

We both laugh, until he trails off, looking serious again. "If you decide you really need a few things, we can always go get them from the storage unit," he offers, then gives me a gentle squeeze and presses a soft, long kiss on my temple. "Besides – the house will be ready in a few months. Won't it be nice to have less stuff to move?"

Damn. When he's right, he's right. I just don't tell him that often – a woman's gotta have a few secrets. And mentioning our house – that's a dirty move. He knows what it does to me. We've practically lived together ever since our first date, but the thought of our house, a beautiful craftsman in Queen Anne, one we're renovating together, hits a special spot for me. Because it's ours. The house we'll make our very own – where we'll host our own family dinners, make our own traditions, start a family...

And speaking of that, I have my own surprise for Edward. Hopefully he'll take it a bit better than I took his virtual robbery of all my cardboard treasures.

"We might not exactly have less stuff to move, you know," I say, unable to keep the sly smile off my face.

I've known for a couple weeks now – right before the wedding, to be exact. I'd suspected something was up for a few weeks, and I finally broke down two days before the wedding and took a test. When those two pink lines came up blazing, I was sort of overwhelmed. It's been pure torture keeping it from Edward, but I wanted to wait to tell him – make it special. With all the wedding stuff, I just haven't found the right time. In my defense, I tried to tell him on our wedding night, but my mouth was otherwise occupied, and my brain wasn't exactly functioning on a rational level. Then I chickened out on the rest of the honeymoon.

Guess there's no time like the present...

He pulls back quickly and gives me a panicked look. "You mean there's more stuff I didn't know about? Where the hell did you hide it?"

I laugh. "I haven't hidden anything. As for the stuff, I haven't bought it yet."

Giving me a curious look, he asks, "And why might we need to buy this new stuff?" His eyes glint green-gold in the evening light, and the way he peers down at me makes me think I might not have kept this such a secret after all. There's a sweet, knowing half-smile curving his lips, and I melt just a little inside. God, I love this man.

I take his hand and place it below my bellybutton. "Because of this little guy right here."

His face splits into a wide grin. "Little _guy_, huh? What if we've got a Daddy's girl?"

I shrug and dip my head, smiling shyly. "I don't know... it's just a feeling."

"When?" he whispers, gently rubbing my as-yet nonexistent baby bump.

"We're due in early April. We've got an appointment this week with my OB."

"Will we get to see her?" The awe in his voice melts me all over again. He's going to be such a great daddy. Our baby will be one lucky little child.

Sappy grin firmly cemented on my face, I say, "I'm not sure. Maybe you can use your doctor influence and get us in for an ultrasound." The dreamy look on his face is so sweet, I feel the sting of tears in my eyes.

"You bet I will. I can't wait to see her."

"So... you seem stuck on this Daddy's girl thing."

"Of course I am! Baby girls are chick magnets. It's gonna be great," he jokes, and I smack his shoulder.

"You also don't seem very surprised," I say wryly, and I know I'm right when he just smirks at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Bella, you started going to bed at seven p.m. two weeks before the wedding."

"Could have been wedding stress," I tease. "And I didn't even know myself until two days before. I was on the Pill – I was already five weeks before I found out."

"True," he agrees. "Looks like we're one of the lucky two percent that get pregnant on the Pill."

"You seem awfully proud of yourself." And damn if I don't think it's really sexy that he's so happy.

His grin is a mile wide. "Are you kidding? Hell yes, I'm proud of myself. My swimmers are champions!" He sighs, looking so happy, and I wonder why I ever waited to tell him. "I can't wait to see her. She's going to be gorgeous, just like her mom." He sweeps me up in a hug before carefully setting me down.

"When did you know for sure?" I question, curious as to the signs I'd obviously missed.

"It was at the rehearsal dinner when I really figured it out – you said the filet mignon smelled like burnt dog hair. You're not much of a meat eater, but you never turn down a good steak."

I almost gag at the mention of red meat. He's right – I do love a nice steak, or at least I used to. My tiny passenger, however, does not.

"Can we not mention food? I'm sort of off it at the moment."

"You mean you don't want a huge plate of chili-cheese fries? Pickles and peanut butter? Kettle chips and Nutella?"

I give him a dirty look. "That's gross. Except for the last one – that actually sounds yummy."

"How does your tummy feel about bodily fluids?" He waggles his eyebrows and pulls me close, pushing his hips against mine. "'Cause I've got some for you right here if you're interested."

"Don't push your luck there, buddy. My gag reflex is a little too sensitive for that at the moment. I can barely handle brushing my teeth."

He picks me up bodily and heads for the bed. "I can work around that."

_Oh, yes... he certainly can._

I'm only too glad to let him. After all, I'm ruled by pregnancy hormones – that means he can do whatever he wants, and I'll love course, that's been set in stone since I met him... and I doubt it will ever change.

**~THE END~**

* * *

_The snow has begun. Guess the weatherman wasn't wrong, after all. I'm hoping for thunder-snow, because I think it's awesome, as long as I don't have to go anywhere._

_Thank you so much to my loyal readers. I recognize your names every time I post a story, and it makes me smile like Buddy the Elf. Just as much thanks to the new names and the guests - thanks for taking a chance on this little mini-short story, even though the chapters were so short. _

___Who knows when I'll post again. You should see my doc folder. So many unfinished things. So, I guess I'm like the elf on a shelf - you never know where or when I'll pop up. Just know I'm not abandoning anything. _  


_To those who celebrate any kind of holiday this season, I hope it's a good one. You've all given me the best present just by reading.  
_


	18. They Said: Flash Forward 1

_You've inspired me to write more. Thanks to the girls of the Lemonade Stand, who swaddled this little baby up in their nursery with a lot of other really good reads. So here's a gift for all the readers, old and new. At least one update a day, though probably not quite as quickly as last time.  
_

_As always, Kristenlynn betas, gives awesome suggestions, and is probably the reason this ended up a little longer than I originally planned. :)  
_

* * *

**~flash-forward one~**

**/ she said:** _Working lunches have never been this awesome – 12:02 p.m._

* * *

There's a definite plus to your mother-in-law living around the corner – free babysitting.

Bree is Esme's first and only grandchild, and the light of her life. My own mother is just as obsessed; she's been up to visit three times this year already, and it's only February.

Edward and I are eternally thankful for the in-law suite above the garage. We no longer feel guilty about the money we spent fixing it up. It's paid for itself many times over.

It all allows Edward and me to spend a little bit more time alone together. I swear, all we have to do is whisper Esme's name and she shows up, ready for grandma duty. When we feel overwhelmed, we can step out for a few hours to relax. If said relaxation just happens to involve chips and salsa with cheese dip and a few margaritas, even better.

Plus, margarita-flavored Edward is one of my favorite desserts.

I'm sickeningly happy, even though I know I'm well on the way to becoming a Volvo-driving soccer mom. Hell, we've already got the Volvo. I'm just holding out hope Bree will want to be a gymnast or figure skater. But not a hockey player. I want her to keep all her teeth.

But still, I can't picture my life any other way.

When Sabrina Elizabeth was born, she was a tiny thing. Edward immediately christened her "Bree," insisting that Sabrina was much too big a name for such a tiny, perfect little girl. She'd been his little Bree ever since, and they have each other wrapped around their respective pinky fingers.

She's more fun each and every day. I can tell by Edward's smile that he feels the same way. We spend our evenings jabbering and laughing, giggling and rolling on the floor with a super-quick, super-cute tornado of a toddler. Dinner usually involves a lot of ketchup and a giant mess, but we both love it.

And then he lets me relax on the couch with a glass of wine while he and Bree have bath time. He's got her in bed by eight... which means we've got the rest of our evening to ourselves. No interruptions.

God, I love him.

Which is one reason I'm bringing him lunch. I'm gonna seduce him with a heart-attack melt, or whatever he calls it. The Guy Fieri Douche Special. I've got one, hot and cheesy, in the paper bag tucked beneath my arm as I head past the nurse's desk and down the short hallway that leads to Edward's office.

Heidi, the head nurse, grins at me, shooting a thumbs-up my way as I tap on his open door. It's the third time I've been here this week. Everyone else that works in this clinic knows exactly what's going on, but they've been cheering us on from the get-go. They all want us to make another cute baby that they can get their greedy, baby-loving little hands on.

"What a nice surprise," Edward says with a knowing grin, and then his eyes drop to the deli sack. His nostrils flare as the scent of bacon and cheese registers. "Anything you want, it's yours. Just give me that sandwich."

I close the door behind me with a gentle click. "Anything?" With my free hand, I fumble for the lock at my back, eyes never leaving his.

"It's yours."

I grin. "In that case, eat up." I take the empty seat across from his desk and start unpacking our lunch. "I'll claim my prize after you eat."

When everything is set up and Edward has attacked his food, I settle into the chair, making sure I take my time. Casually, I cross my legs and unbutton my jacket, shrugging it from my shoulders to reveal a tight blue sweater with a low-cut V. I pretend to concentrate on covering my lap with a napkin, but I'm really making sure my skirt is hiked just a little higher.

Then I do it. I slowly uncross my legs, pausing deliberately right in the middle. I'm wearing his favorite underwear, and I think he should know it.

Edward freezes with the sandwich halfway to his mouth, which hangs open.

_Yep. This is going to be fun._

* * *

_He Said, She Said is up for Top Ten Completed Fics of December 2013 at twifanfictionrecs dot com. It's up against a lot of stiff competition, but that also means I have a good, long list of completed fic to read! Anyway, I'd love your vote if you're so inclined. I'll put a direct link to the post in my profile for you. Voting ends Feb 1st. _

_To my Chain Reaction readers: A new chapter is coming very soon... only the editing left now. I won't let you down, I promise. _

_See you all tomorrow with some words from Edward... and thanks for reading!  
_


	19. They Said: Flash Forward 2

_I tinkered with this quite a bit after KristenLynn sent it back. All mistakes are mine.  
_

* * *

**~they said~**

**/ he said: **_Is this real life? 12:15 p.m._

* * *

You just flashed me your fucking panties. The bacon melt goes from delicious to a dull lump in my throat, and I have to force it down. My appetite is gone... replaced with one of an entirely different kind.

I can't believe it, but you've managed to distract me from heart-attack heaven. You've done it, with that tiny little scrap of lace between your legs.

When you took off your coat and I saw that bright blue sweater out of the corner of my eye, I got hooked. Then I noticed them – the pale, top swells of your pretty tits. Not much, but just enough to make me wonder if I could tug that sweater low enough to expose a nipple. My own private wardrobe malfunction.

Then you messed with that fucking napkin, but somehow ended up flashing me a whole lot of leg.

And when those thighs slid against one another... then parted... all I could see was black lace.

It's all I can still see, because it's burned into my mind. I love the way you look in those things you call underwear. Good thing I'm sitting down, because my dick is sitting up straight and begging. Forget the sandwich – I want to lay you out on this desk and just... take. Consume. Devour.

I know you'd let me. I could have you right here, right now. But... I'm curious. And we've got time. We've got a lifetime of lunches like this, so I can be patient.

You're playing a game with me. Sitting there, innocent as can be as you nibble on your own lunch. You settle back into the chair and take a sip of your soda, finishing with a contented, oblivious little sigh. I want to see where this goes.

It almost irritates me that you're cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, I'm on fucking fire on the other side of this desk. I need you, _now,_ and you're casually, oh-so-slowly eating your lunch.

I can't even enjoy my damned bacon melt, because all I can think about is the way your skin tastes. But that's okay. You'll help me work out my frustration, right? I can see it in those eyes of yours when you finally look at me, that deep, dark brown glinting knowingly as you smile.

You didn't come here to eat at all, did you? You came to play. When did you decide to torture me? Was it while Bree took her morning nap? Did I come to mind while you were in the shower? Or have you been planning this for a while?

I certainly aim to please. I'll give you exactly what you want.

Game on, Gorgeous.

* * *

_It's good to hear from Edward again, isn't it? _

_I had a reader give me a couple ideas on little scenes she'd like to see (awesome suggestions, btw- you've got me wondering what these two would pick for their first fight).  
_

_Does anyone else have anything else you want to see from these two? I can't guarantee I'll get to them all, but I'd love to hear your suggestions._


	20. They Said: Flash Forward 3

_Every time I visit my parents, it snows. I got to dig my dad's truck out of the snow and drive through the snow drifts down their super-long driveway. It was kinda hard not to make a detour into the field to do some doughnuts. On the plus side, I got the last half-gallon of milk at the grocery store, took my grandma some lunch, and managed to stop by the liquor store. Priorities.  
_

_KristenLynn betas, I tinker. It's because she gives me so many good ideas, dammit._

* * *

**~they said~**

**/ she said: **_I'm gonna make you forget your name – 12:25 p.m._

* * *

Whenever I tuck Bree into her crib lately, it hits me – she's not a baby anymore. She's grown into this tiny, willful, adorable little girl right before my eyes. She's learning so much every day, and I can't wait to see what else she'll amaze us with.

I want another one.

Now that I've seen what kind of miracle Edward and I can create, how can I not want more?

I want to cuddle a chubby baby with reddish hair and green eyes, one who looks just like his father. I want to sing another tiny daughter to sleep. I want to watch our children play in the back yard on long, humid summer evenings; I want to watch Edward teach our children how to build a snowman.

Most of all, I just want to make another _life_ with him. Because no matter how much fun it is being a mommy, watching Edward be a daddy is the greatest joy of my life – next to Bree, of course.

I know he wants more. And I'll be the one to give him everything he needs.

So when I put Bree in her crib, I went downstairs and checked my period tracker app, looking for those little green stars. Since we decided to tempt fate when my birth control prescription ran out a couple months ago, we've avoided sex on my most fertile days. I wasn't so sure I could handle another baby while Bree still needs so much attention, but I've started to realize that I have plenty of love to go around. Our whole family does.

Green light means go. I'm sure Edward will be only too happy to help me make the most of it.

I suddenly notice he's stopped eating. All movement on the other side of the table has ceased; his sandwich forgotten on its butcher-paper wrap, half-eaten and growing cold. His eyes are fixed on me, glinting with a devious light under the fluorescents.

"Are you finished?" he drawls, leaning back in his chair. He steeples his fingers together over his abdomen, drawing my attention to the flat expanse of his belly beneath the snug-fitting button-down.

He's wearing a tie today. I just want to tug on it. Pull it loose and then tighten it up until he can't breathe, just to show him I'm in control.

I place the rest of my sandwich on its wrapper and slowly, deliberately, wipe my mouth with the napkin. "I could go for some dessert."

He raises a brow. Damn. He knows that does things to me.

"Oh? Did you bring dessert?"

_Oh, Edward. You think you're playing it so cool, but the giant boner in your lap says otherwise_.

Lips curving into a slow, seductive smile, I answer. "No. I forgot." For good measure, I uncross my legs, making sure he's got a great view, before I smooth my skirt down my thighs. I rise to my feet and eye him hungrily. "Looks like I'll have to make my own."

Edward laughs, "Did you memorize dialogue from a porno for this?"

Barely containing my own giggle, I return, "Why, is it turning you on?"

"Being in the same room with you turns me on." He waits a beat. "In spite of your lame pick-up lines."

I call his bluff and come around the desk, sinking to my knees before him. I have one plan, and one plan only: to drive him insane. I'd say I'm at least a third of the way there. He sits still, hands on his spread thighs, waiting. Eyes blazing. Practically daring me...

Who am I to refuse?

"But we both know I don't need pick-up lines with you," I whisper. "You're a sure thing, aren't you?"

He doesn't reply, just watches me with eyes gone dark and hooded, waiting for my next move.

I reach for his belt buckle and he doesn't even flinch – much. The smooth leather slides free of the loops with a quiet hiss, and I pop open the button. His breath hitches as I pull the tab of the zipper, taking as much time as I possibly can. He's completely erect beneath the cotton-twill of his trousers, full and waiting for me.

Locking eyes with his, I part his fly and pull him free. He's so hard – pulsing, throbbing, glistening at the tip. I know he wants me to taste him, and I want the same thing. Probably not for the same reason – he wants me to love the way he tastes and feels in my mouth, and I do. But I love having him at my mercy even more. That's why I stop, just taking him in with my eyes. I love this: the sight of him, the tension in his body in response to the energy that practically vibrates between us, growing and heating by the second.

He's impatient, as always. When he reaches for me, I direct his hands to the arms of his chair. "Touch me and it stops," I tell him, grasping the base of his cock.

_That's right_, I think, humming to myself as I taste him. _See if you can top this..._

* * *

_You can thank KristenLynn for Bella channeling her "inner Sharon Stone." Except she wanted Bella to be commando. _

_Don't forget - HS-SS is up for top ten fics from December. Link is on my profile.  
_


	21. They Said: Flash Forward 4

_KristenLynn betas and makes it all better. _

_How about an early dose of Edward?  
_

* * *

**~they said~  
**

_**he said: **__My office is my new favorite place... 12:35 p.m._

* * *

Oh, _fuck_.

Your _mouth_.

I can't even think. All I can do is feel.

I want to grab your head and push you down, thrust my hips up and show you how much I like this.

But I won't. This is your show. I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but thank fucking god I did it. I can't think of a better prize than this, except for being buried between your legs. Losing myself to the wet, searing heat, I squeeze my eyes shut and tip my head back. It's too good. I try to hold on, to think about anything other than your lips and tongue on my cock, but nothing helps. I can still see you in my mind... feel your soft hair tickling my stomach... hear the wet sounds of those perfect lips sliding up and down...

"Gorgeous, I'm... " _So damn close... your mouth feels so good..._

And then...I suck in a breath – you just used your teeth. "Fuck!" I pull you up off of me and stare into those deep, dark eyes.

You smile and wipe the wetness off your kiss-swollen bottom lip with the tip of your thumb. "Sorry," you whisper, but your expression tells me you aren't – not at all. It's a challenge, one I gladly accept.

"Get up here." I wrap my arms around your waist as you straddle my lap, bury my face in your neck, and scrape my teeth along that tendon that drives you crazy. "Here," I murmur, moving up to your jaw. "Here." I inch up to take your earlobe into my mouth. "Here." I drag my lips to yours and gently bite that sexy bottom lip. When you arch up against me, pressing your tits into my chest, I soothe the sting with the tip of my tongue. "All of these are acceptable places to use your teeth."

You giggle a little bit and wind your arms around my head, keeping me close. "Your point?"

"The point is," I growl, "my dick is not an acceptable place to use your teeth."

Your body shakes with suppressed laughter. "But I read that guys like it."

"You believe everything you read? It fucking hurts!"

You're not even bothering to hold back now, sweet laughter falling from your lips.

"Should I not? I read it in _Cosmo._"

I barely keep myself from rolling my eyes. You're trying to provoke me, and I never can resist you when you do it. "Fuck _Cosmo_. It's written by a bunch of dried up, horny old hags who haven't seen a penis in years." I press my palm to your chest and slide it down, then under the lace you wore to tempt me, until I can press my thumb against the place where you're wet and swollen. You wore a skirt for me. Have I mentioned how much that fucking turns me on?

But I still need to teach you a little lesson. Just a tiny one. Then we can get down to the business of me fucking you.

"Do you want my teeth anywhere near this pretty little clit?" I ask, enjoying the way you moan.

"God, no," you breathe, fingers tunneling into my hair and yanking hard.

I hiss, nipping your lips and pulling your head back so I can see you. Now _that's_ the kind of pain I like. It means I'm driving you insane.

"Now you see what I mean," I smirk, wrapping your hair around my fist. My other hand tugs your panties to the side. Like magic, our hips align perfectly, allowing me to slide deep. I watch your eyes, loving the way they go dark and hooded, biting my own lip at the way you abuse yours. The way your body arches against mine is perfection.

I'll take anything you give me – I love the way you love me.

But I'm not above giving a little direction.

"Hang on." I lean over you and stand, blindly sweeping my hand over my desk, barely clearing enough room to put you down. That's okay. I just need a little room for leverage, anyway. Cupping your ass in one hand, my other braced on your hip, I grind into you.

You wrap your arms around my neck and hold on with a strength that never fails to surprise me. It betrays how much you need me. Your sharp nails dig into the nape of my neck as you pull me closer, until our foreheads touch.

"You like that?" I ask, going as slow as I can. Peering down between us, I pull out almost all the way and then slam back in, fighting with myself to stay still as long as I can.

_Fuck, _you feel good. Are you watching, too?

I gotta tell you, Gorgeous – all of you is always pretty, but your pussy never looks better than when it's squeezing my dick. I slide my hand down your thigh and hold it out so I can get a better view. It's all so slow. So quiet. It's just you and me, breathing hard... holding back... listening to the soft, wet sounds our bodies make. It's a virtual soundtrack of sex.

You let out a soft, husky whimper and drag your hands down my chest before clutching at my sides, urging my hips forward.

"More," you whisper, wrapping your legs high around my hips.

Oh yeah. You like it. I fucking like it, too.

* * *

_What do you know? He likes it._

_What are your feelings on teeth? Did I really just ask that?_


	22. They Said: Flash Forward 5

_I hated to leave you all hanging, so here's another chapter. The last one will post sometime tomorrow evening. _

* * *

_**~they said~**_

_**she said:**__ This lunch is running way long, but why should I care? 1:10 p.m._

* * *

"Touch yourself," Edward rumbles in my ear, starting to move a little faster. But it's still not enough.

I slip my hand down between us and rub little circles on my clit, but I can't help straying down to touch him once or twice.

"You've got to bring me lunch more often," he breathes, grinding his hips in a maddening circle. "What's gotten in to you lately?"

I circle my fingers around his cock, squeezing as he pushes back in. "Do I really have to spell it out?"

"Oh, please do."

"I think _you_ got into me, Dr. Cullen," I pant, my head falling to his shoulder as I rub my clit again. I need to finish _now_, almost as much as I need to see the way Edward's eyes go soft when he comes inside me.

"Oh, I'm fucking _in_ you, Bella," he almost growls, picking up the pace.

I brace my other hand behind myself and lean back a little, so I can look up at him. His eyes rove up and down, until they finally come to rest on mine.

"You close?"

"Mm-hm," I sigh, toying with my clit, right on the edge... until I'm over. He doesn't stop moving, just changes the angle and goes deeper, driving me out of my mind until I can't take much more. "Edward, now," I murmur, rubbing a hand up and down his abs.

"Oh, God," he breathes, then grits his teeth.

I can tell the moment he comes, because the little line between his brows disappears. There's only a glimmer of dark green as his eyelashes flutter, then close. He bites back a moan and screws himself deep, his hands clutching at my hips. I think I came again just watching him.

_Did he kill me? It's entirely possible I just died._

"You're still alive, Gorgeous," Edward laughs, slumping back into his chair and taking me with him.

Sometimes I swear he's a mind reader.

He's still inside me, and I never want him to leave. But somehow I think his boss might object to him seeing patients with me attached to his dick.

After a while, Edward laughs, and then sighs. "I'm never going to be able to sit at this desk again without getting hard."

I can't open my eyes yet, and the vision of his face as he came is burned into my brain – mouth touching mine, lips parted, breath panting. Green eyes hooded, fighting to withstand the storm of sensation and skin as he thrust into me, fingers like iron bands around my hips.

I'll be wearing his marks for days, and I just want more.

"How do you talk me into these things?" I'm still out of breath, but the rest of me is starting to come around.

He laughs, and I can feel it – inside.

"It's not that hard."

I giggle and shift my hips. "Not anymore."

Growling, he says, "Keep doing that, and you'll be wrong in a couple minutes." He kisses me slowly, gently, before pulling back to glance at the clock on the wall. "And as much as I'd love to stay here all afternoon, I've got a patient in twenty minutes." Sighing, he sits up with me still on his lap.

"I've gotta get going, too. Your mom is going to get suspicious if I'm gone much longer. I'm supposed to bring her a French Dip. And if she calls the sandwich shop again to complain about their horrible service, I'm going to have to tell her the truth. And we'll be out one free babysitter."

Edward rolls his eyes. "Mom would watch her every minute of every day and you know it."

Leveling him with a stern stare, I say, "I don't want to test that theory, do you?"

With an exaggerated sigh, he answers, "I guess not."

I grin and gingerly scoot off Edward's lap so I can straighten my skirt and underwear. There's gonna be a mess, but I don't even care. Our alone time is so few and far between these days, I'll take whatever I can get.

Of course, I wouldn't change a thing about our life. Bree and her daddy are the best things that ever happened to me.

Besides... walking out of here with messy panties gives me some sort of smug satisfaction. I'm pretty sure most of the women in the clinic's waiting room would kill to be walking out of this office with the same problem. There's something wrong with me, I know.

Edward smirks, looking pointedly at my crotch as he fixes his own clothes. "Looks like you'll be bringing home plenty of tiger sauce."

I look at him, my mouth dropping open in disgust. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

He shrugs, straightening his pants. "It does dress up the beef curtains quite nicely..."

Thoroughly disgusted, I sling my purse over one shoulder. "If I ever hear the words 'beef curtains' come out of your mouth again, I'll superglue it shut."

Slapping a hand over his heart, he gives me his most apologetic look.

It shouldn't work on me – I see it at least once a day. But it does. Because I'm still dickmatized, even after all this time. And I'm still completely in love with him.

"But you _like_ my mouth."

"Not when it says shit like that!" My lips almost twitch with the need to laugh.

"But... what about my pretty smile?" He gives me a huge, innocent grin and flutters his eyelashes at me.

"You can still smile with your mouth glued shut." I pat his cheek and head for the door, leaving Edward just the way I like him – speechless. I can't resist stopping in the doorway as I deliver one parting shot. "See you at home, dear. We're having roast beef for dinner."

I can hear him laughing all the way down the hall.

And when I detour into the bathroom just off the waiting room, Heidi snickers at me from the front desk. I give her a thumbs up and leave with my head held high.

* * *

_How can he go from sexy to gross in 0.3 seconds flat? Sheesh_.

_Tune in tomorrow for one final say from Edward. Thanks for reading!_


	23. They Said: Flash Forward 6

_This is the last one. Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into their future together.  
_

_KristenLynn helped shape this one a lot.  
_

* * *

**~they said~**

**/ he said:** _Honey, I'm home... 4:30 p.m_.

* * *

It's a rare day when I get off work early – but when it happens, I head straight home. To you and Bree.

I can't fucking wait.

She's got your smile, Gorgeous. Right down to that hint of a dimple in her left cheek. The eyes are all mine, though not quite as green. There's a ring of chocolate brown around the iris that exactly matches yours. Her hair is thick, like mine, but it lies in perfect little waves around her face, just like yours.

I never knew I could love this hard. I think the same thing every day... yet every day I love you even more. Both of you.

It's always like this, whether I'm coming home at the normal time, or coming home three hours late, or three hours early. I feel this... this _pull, _and it's always calling me – to the two of you. By the time I turn that knob and let myself in through the garage, then drop all my shit in the mud room, I'm itching to get my arms around you. If I'm super lucky, Bree is awake and part of it all, and I'll get to drag you both down on the couch with me.

You two are my world. The two loves of my life.

I still can't believe it's been more than nineteen months since she was born. It still feels like just yesterday that I held your hand while you gave birth to our daughter. You did so great... and I know you'll do the same when the next time comes. Because I know I want more. More sweet little perfect babies that somehow manage to look exactly like the both of us. More of the best of us perfectly blended in tiny little packages.

I know what's up with the lunch teases, Gorgeous. You want to make another baby.

I'm with you, all the way. It'll be the most fun I've had since we conceived Bree. Or maybe our trip to Brazil. Or hell, last week in the laundry room while our little tornado took a rare nap.

The house is quiet and cool when I let myself in. I can't even hear the TV. I hope you're home. Your car is here, but I forgot to check for the stroller. It's a nice day; maybe you took Bree for a walk. Disappointment dims my excitement a bit, but I'll just wait here for my girls to come home.

When I find you asleep on our bed, cuddled against our daughter... I sigh in relief and try to pretend I don't melt a little.

I'm the luckiest fucker alive.

Quickly, I shuck off my shoes and socks, strip off my tie and belt, and carefully slide into bed next to you. I curve myself around your back and slip an arm around your waist, then close my eyes and bury my face in the back of your neck.

_Fuck_, you smell good. Like warm, sexy woman and sweet, soft baby. You smell like home. I nuzzle a little deeper and get a hint of my own aftershave. That's right. You smell a little like me, too. How could you not, after the way I had you spread out on my desk today?

Relaxation floods my tired limbs as a smile tugs at my mouth. I rest my hand on the delicate, warm curve of Bree's back, letting my fingertips register the rhythmic ebb and flow of her breath. Content beyond all reason, I melt into the mattress... sink against the rich curves of your body... and slide easily into sleep with my girls.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope it made you warm and fuzzy. Cause you all do that for me. :)  
_


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